


Dusk till Dawn

by madamnovelist



Category: Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018)
Genre: Canon Universe, Drama & Romance, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Enemies to Lovers, F/F, Falling In Love, How Do I Tag, Hurt/Comfort, Miranda Ti Amo, Motherhood
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-13 11:27:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 19,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28777536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madamnovelist/pseuds/madamnovelist
Summary: Set in part 4.While their world is falling apart, a glimpse inside Zelda Spellman and Lilith leaning into each other as the witch mends a broken heart and the demoness struggles to find a reason in life.
Relationships: Zelda Spellman/Mary Wardwell | Madam Satan | Lilith
Comments: 220
Kudos: 170





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!! It's my first time doing canon and I am TERRIFIED. if you read my other works, you'll see why.  
> This takes place when Mambo Marie leaves and Lilith attempts suicide.  
> I don't know if that's a fix-it or a canon divergence, probably both. I just want them to find solace in each other. 
> 
> I can't wait to hear what your guys think!!!

**_Dusk till Dawn_ **

****

**_Madam Spellman canon divergence – season 4_ **

****

_Can you feel where the wind is?  
Can you feel it through  
All of the windows  
Inside this room?_

**PROLOGUE**

Zelda Spellman closed the door of the Mortuary behind her back and stopped. It took just that – the soft, but steady rumor of the door closing, of the door leaving behind – leaving her behind. _Him_. Them.

She felt tears gather in her eyes, but no. She wasn’t going to cry. She was not.

Vinegar Tom whined in her arms and instinctively, Zelda squeezed him in her arms, head going down to gently press her sharp nose in his soft fur, her red curls sliding forward to create a silky curtain, locking her and her beloved dog inside, locking them safe, locking them away. Away from pain. Away from sorrow.

It would do, at least. Zelda felt both pain and sorrow.

Vinnie T. raised his little head and licked her chin, Zelda readily erupting in a strangled giggle which quickly turned into a cry. He was a beautiful gift. A precious one, her one true soulmate. The missing part of her. And yet, if it was as easy as forgive and forget…

_“I am not as I appear.”_

Her glistering coffee eyes – the chocolate skin of her hand, enveloping her small one.

_“The thinning between the fabric of life and death is upon us.”_

It had passed. Done. It was in the past. It could hurt, and Hecate, it _did_ hurt. But it was in the past. And it was her fault – she knew the price for love, and she knew, as simple as that, that it wasn’t in her path. She was cursed, she knew it. She _felt_ it. Faustus Blackwood had been the one to show her how cursed she was, but from time to time she had seen how right he had been. On that, at least. She _knew_ love existed. She could see it in her sister’s eyes. She could see it in her niece’s sure steps. She did see love, and as clearly as she saw the sentiment in other’s life, she saw how it was precluded to her. She did know love; she just wasn’t supposed on experiencing it. Zelda Spellman experienced power, and dysfunction, and sex in every aspect of it, down until rape. She had been raped, she had been used, she had been hit.

And now – she had been betrayed once again.

She wasn’t going to fuss about it, she thought resolutely as she entered her kitchen to fetch her usual before-bed glass of whiskey.

It had been nice until it had lasted. It had been nice until she had hidden in a warm spot in those black eyes.

* * *

She pressed her face strongly into the pillow, smelling the subtle scent of incense of the material. She pressed, and pressed, and pressed, as she irrationally hoped to find some shelter. She found none. She had known it even before she had tried.

She rolled over on her side, a few locks of thick chestnut hair falling across her face, fists gripping the expensive sheets of the bed, such a strength in her boney hands she was afraid she was going to tear them apart.

She was done.

She let out a cry, sounding much like a moan, as her head fell back on the cushions, tears streaming down her face, her heart – did she really have a heart, at the end of the day? What did she know, about love? She knew sex, she knew power. She knew manipulation and lust, and she probably knew protection. But – she had loyalty issues. She was used to biting the hand who fed her. How could she, how did she imagine that she could be so blessed to experience motherhood in the purest sense of the word?

She rolled again, trying to find relief for her aching muscles, and she shoved a hand under the pillow, retrieving the Spear of Longinus. She held it with both hands, the dying light of a few candles reflecting on the dirty blade.

_“Hecate, give me the strength to do what must be done.”_

If one stopped and thought about it, it could appear almost amusing. She had asked for guidance from a goddess in the hall of the Academy of Unseen Arts. In other words, she had prayed to another goddess in the main room of the place that had once been her Church. She had been the prayed divinity among those walls, and yet, at that moment, she couldn’t possibly care. Hell, being queen, the weight of the crown on her head, the exciting feels she got from cries of damnation. Zelda Spellman’s raspy voice guiding her lambs through prayers…

_Hail, Lilith, full of disgrace –_

That same voice, that same name, her name. Said in a different tone, not with concern and reference but with terror and urgency.

_“Lilith! What are you doing?”_

She was drowning. So hard and steady she couldn’t even put into focus Zelda’s flaming hair, her green eyes flashing both pain and annoyance.

_“I’ve been haunted by the deaths.”_

_“Ah, as we all.”_

How many times had she heard that particular tone of voice, when faking to be Mary Wardwell, the excommunicated witch. How many times, when she had spat right to Zelda’s face then she worshipped her, and so she had to obey her wishes.

How many times.

Did it count, now?

No. Of course, it did not – not anymore.

She had held that little biting baby for such a short time, and he had resized millennia of a pointless life.

* * *

Zelda had spent interminable minutes laying on her side, eyes fixed on the dice shaker on her nightstand table. 

_“Shake this – I will hear it.”_

She wouldn’t.

She wasn’t going to, and it didn’t matter how hard she wanted it. She knew herself – she won’t be able to forgive such a betrayal. Laying in her bed… holding her hand… kissing her throat... Lifting her leg - Not being who she told her she was.

No.

She had just found a comfortable position in her bed, and she was about to dozen off, eyes still fixed on the damn shaker, her pain blending with her thought as she drifted off – when she sat up abruptly.

Lilith.

She had actually caught her in the middle of attempting suicide and now she was alone, still in possession of the Spear of Longinus, free to finish the task at hand. And she had been so selfish, so reckless, so invested in her own petty sentimental issues that she had forgotten Lilith and the shelter she had assured her she would have provided.

She got up, clearly in a hurry, and with a snap of her fingers, she found herself wearing black dress pants, a burgundy turtleneck, and pumps. She took a deep breath and instinctively she reached to pat her red curls, but she found them tussled. She sighed. In what a state she found herself. She was so stressed she wasn’t able to cast a simple spell anymore. She arranged her hair with her hand, then closed her eyes, took a few deep breaths, and focused her energies and her concentration on the hall outside Lilith’s room. She turned her anger into power and in the blink of an eye, she was staring at the dark oak door. 

She raised a hand, ready to knock, then she had a moment of hesitation and the hand dropped along her side. Lilith was probably the only person in the world that put her in a state of agitation. She was perfectly able to hide it, clearly, but yet she wasn’t fond of the feeling at the pit of her stomach.

What a difficult day.

With another breath, she raised her hand and knocked.

No answer came.

She tried again.

Hideous, excruciating images of Lilith lying in a pool of blood started to fill her mind, as she pictured the demoness’ fine features petrified in the still of death.

She knocked once again and immediately reached for the door handle and tried it. The door slid open with the slightest push and Zelda held her breath.

_Please, please, for the love of Hecate, let her be –_

“Lilith?” she blew, hesitantly, peeked toward the bed, her heart skipping a beat. But then, out of the blue – _Praise Hecate_ : “I thought it was that bothersome sister of yours.”

Her voice was feeble blew of air. She was on the bed, still wearing the dress she had on that day, curled on one side.

“It’s me,” Zelda said, foolishly so.

“Yes, I gathered that much. I recognized the sound of your heels in the hall.”

Her voice was flat, no tone whatsoever. Even if uninvited, like an eldritch terror, Zelda moved a couple more steps into the room. She wrinkled her nose as a foreign scent filled her nose, as much as Lilith’s pain had somehow contaminated the air.

“Don’t do that with your nose, doesn’t help with the wrinkles around your eyes.”

Zelda rolled her eyes but didn’t say anything back. She looked over the bed and saw that Lilith wasn’t even looking at her. Her big, bloodshot blue eyes were fixed on a strange object she was nestling in her hands.

“What’s that?” the witch asked, frozen in the middle of the room, uncertain if she should approach the bed or take a seat next to the fireplace. She’s not sure Lilith would like that, and she, for one, wasn’t feeling in the mood for company.

Lilith manifestly drew the object close to her chest.

“I’m not going to take that away from you, you know,” she softly murmured. “I just wanted to know.”

“I have nothing else to take,” Lilith said back, same flat tone, eyes fixed on what – Zelda tried looking intently – had the semblances of a horrendous, weird doll.

“Lilith…”

“What do you want?” Lilith asked, and this time, a vein of annoyance ran through the flat tone.

“I was just wondering how you were doing.”

Zelda started to crave a cigarette. Could she?

“You can smoke if you want.”

“How do you –”

“You were my High Priestess, after all. I know how you start fidgeting with your hands when you want to smoke.”

“Oh,” Zelda just said.

“I know more about yourself than you probably realize.”

Blue eyes still fixed on the doll, sentence after sentence, the same steady and flat tone, like a game of tennis. Then, Lilith spoke again: “You were worrying after me at such a late hour?”

Zelda put a cigarette in her ring holder and lightened it, overindulging in the taste of smoke filling her lungs and her mouth.

“I’ve had quite the day.”

Lilith just snorted, and Zelda realized her mistake. The biggest betrayal from a lover couldn’t compete with losing a child, and even her broken heart recognized it. She decided not to press, neither to try making amend. It was probably the best choice because Lilith inquired: “Have you quarreled with your little lover?”

Zelda’s mouth opened. “How did you…”

“I have eyes,” Lilith cut her off. “So, have you?”

“I just discovered that the witch I was…” Which word could she use? “The witch I was involved with was actually a _warlock_. Some sort of spirit of death and rebirth.”

A moment of silence followed, and Zelda briefly wondered why she had told Lilith something like that. Why confiding in her? She could feel sorry for her, and she did, but she wasn’t the kind of person who sought help or leaned on a shoulder. Especially not the boney shoulder of a demoness she didn’t trust nor like. And yet, for the first time, Lilith slowly raised her head and, as her chocolate curls fell on her shoulder, a pair of sad, tired, and beautiful eyes fixed on Zelda.

The witch was used to seeing sarcasm, fury, shrewdness in those eyes. She wasn’t expecting to read _sympathy_.

“Quite the day for sure,” Lilith tutted. It was Zelda’s time to snort and she took the last drag of her cigarette, immediately craving another.

Lilith laid back down, rolling on her back. She stared at the ceiling, doll in her hand.

Zelda immediately felt weak, and tired, and scared.

“Well, I’ll retire to bed, now,” she slowly announced.

“I imagine you wanted to ask me when I’ll be out of your hair.”

“Do you want to go back to Hell?”

Their tone now changed, soft whispers in the night, in the still atmosphere of the sleeping Academy. Another terror out of the door, tomorrow still pending, and yet, everybody was in the need of a solid night of sleep. Everybody – not a blue-eyed demoness and a red-haired witch.

“Not particularly.”

Zelda nodded sharply: “We have plenty of rooms. I’d just rather have you sleep at the Mortuary.”

Lilith looked at her again: “We’re not bonding over our miserable lives.”

Zelda snorted: “For the name of Hecate, we are not. But you asked me for help, and I intend to give you that.”

Lilith relaxed against the cushions, humming an unknown tune to her doll.

Zelda turned toward the door and added: “You’ll move into the Mortuary tomorrow. Hilda had this ridiculous idea of getting married, so her room is yours to use. There, you can sew back your pieces.”

Lilith didn’t say anything back. When the witch left, she stayed still for hours in that bed, eyes fixing on the ceiling. And somewhat, somehow, Zelda’s lingering perfume in the air made her feel less alone.


	2. 1 - Shelter in a Prison

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zelda tries to have Lilith move to the Mortuary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE RESPONSE TO THE PROLOGUE!  
> I was feeling so uneasy but you guys are magnificent. Here's the first chapter - my writing was slightly off today but I hope you'll like it anyway. Leave me a comment, if you get the chance, you'll make my day! <3

**CHAPTER 1 – _Shelter in a prison_**

After Zelda left, Lilith laid there, eyes fixed on the ceiling, hands gripping the doll close to her chest. She wanted to think about her conversation with Zelda, be shocked over her revelation. She would have done so while possessing Mary Wardwell. Go home to the cottage, pour herself a drink, foot warming next to the fireplace, and she would have conjectured about her and Mambo Marie La Fleur.

Now, she simply couldn’t. She could just think about Adam. That bed held his presence and if she concentrated enough, she could still smell his baby scent. Sometimes, she heard his soft wails coming from the doll, his pierced cries when he wanted to eat. It was a gift, that doll, or so Mambo Marie had assured her. Was it, really? The Voodoo Priestess – the _fake_ Voodoo Priestess - had affected Zelda Spellman’s walls of ice and then she had betrayed her. Lilith knew a thing or two about betrayals. Could she trust her? Zelda had and what good did she achieve from it?

A piece of her baby’s soul was trapped in the doll. Was it a gift… or was it a curse?

In a moment of clarity, she wondered if she would ever get to live a normal life again. A life where she could function without having to cling to a voodoo doll. A life where she could walk out of that place and know where to go. A life of enjoying a drink speculating over a pretty witch and her lover.

At the crack of dawn, she lost it.

It began with a bit of panic, her breath growing slightly erratic. Her heart started beating fast and hard, and wherever she looked, she just saw walls. She saw no escape.

Her miserable life crumbled on her shoulders and she let out a loud, desperate, piercing cry, waking up the whole Academy.

* * *

In the afterglow between dream and reality, High Priestess Zelda Spellman rolled over in her warm, scented bed. She reached up with one of her elegant hands, instinctively ready to cuddle closer to the other body in her bed.

It’s something people don’t know neither they guess, about Zelda Spellman: the ice queen, the composed and sever powerful witch, able to terrify both students and enemies with just a glance of her fine green eyes, behind a closed door, sought closeness. She sought kisses with closed eyes.

Her body sliding closer to another one in the bed, pads of fingertips brushing over breasts, mouths closing over pulse points, eyes blending, and then a whisper, a craving for coffee, for a day starting together.

Except, that morning she found the bed empty.

She blinked a couple of times in confusion, and occurrences washed over her.

Marie. Lilith. People returning to their graves. Edward, returning to his own. And Vinegar Tom… She abruptly sat up, panic starting to rise in her throat. And as he sensed it, Vinnie T. got off his cushion with bark and climbed on the bed, licking Zelda’s face with unconditional love.

Zelda’s eyes filled with tears, and she whispered soft nonsense at the puppy, her breath gaining back a regular rhythm. She buried her nose in his soft fur and tried to empty her mind, gathering back her usual composure. He was there. She still had him. Him, and her absence.

The only thing that belonged to Zelda, at that moment, was Marie’s absence.

Nights were her private moments. Nights were reserved for sorrow and pain. At night she was allowed to heal. But during the day, life was supposed to go on. She had a coven to lead, two teenagers (well, a teenager and a one hundred and thirty-four-years old man acting like a teenager) to guide, a school to direct. Life was supposed to continue, eldritch terrors or not. And, most of all – she realized with an eye roll as she selected a tight-fitting blue dress for the day – a demoness to babysit.

Poor Lilith.

She had never particularly liked the demoness; she wasn’t even sure if she was thrust-worthy. She was too clever, too astute, and even if those were qualities Zelda appreciated in other people, there was something about Lilith. Something dark. Elusive.

It didn’t matter. She selected a particularly dark shade of burgundy lipstick that would match perfectly with her dress and applied it.

Coffee, breakfast, morning paper, and cigarette. Then, she would proceed to the first task for the day: go to retrieve Lilith from the Academy and bring her to the Mortuary, in the hope that a real home would work wonders on her and ease her pain.

How she wished Hilda was still there.

She looked around the kitchen, Ambrose, and Sabrina already out for their day, as she silently sipped her morning coffee. A mild winter light grazed her red curls, peeking from the window. Zelda closed her eyes, and concentrating enough, she pictured Hilda’s noises in the morning, her steps around the stove, cupboards opening and closing, kettle fuming.

_Blessed morning, sister._

_I added a little bit of chocolate to your coffee, this morning._

_You look lovely, today, Zelds._

She used to spat and growl and complain, and now she missed it all. Hilda would have known how to mend a broken heart. In this case, there were _two_ hearts to mend, and as much as Zelda suffered for her lover’s betrayal, she couldn’t imagine what Lilith was going through.

She got up, quickly putting dishes in the sink and wiping off the table. She checked her make-up once again and after a cuddle to Vinnie T., she closed her eyes and teleported herself to the Academy.

Needless to say, the spell worked perfectly, and after the failure of the night before, Zelda indulged in a brief second of self-cherishing, but a loud cry rained on her parade. She immediately knew it was Lilith, and she fretted toward the demoness’ chambers, in front of which she spotted a troop of students.

“What in Hecate’s name is happening here?” she barked, making half of the group jump. Elspeth rushed to her side.

“Mother Spellman, thank Hecate you’re here. It’s Lilith, she screams like a demon if someone tried to get in.”

Zelda rolled her eyes: “What does it mean, _she screams like a demon_? She _is_ a demoness! And who of you tried to venture inside a screaming demoness room? You are a bunch of fools! Get out of my way, I’ll handle this myself.”

If Directrix Spellman ordered something, her students would obey, and that was out of the question. That morning, too, they walked away, head-down.

Zelda noticed that something was off immediately: Lilith screamed at everyone trying to walk in the room? Why hadn’t she locked her door from the inside?

The first thing she did was casting a silencing spell on the room so the Academy could go on with its usual daily activity without people snooping around. Then, slowly, she opened the door and she slid inside.

A cry, a groan, and from the bed Lilith roared: “Leave me alone!”

Even the great Zelda Spellman couldn’t hold back a slight gasp in front of such a show.

The room was _destroyed._ Curtains ripped open, carpet burned, sheets torn, her own dress hanging to pieces off her body, leaving her in a devasted state of undress and vulnerability. Her perfect curls were decreased to a hangar bush, and her face showed the signs of her own nails, cutting down the olive, once perfect skin.

“Oh, my Hecate, Lilith!” Zelda tried to rush to her side, but when she approached the bed, the demoness jumped back, roaring another: “Leave me alone, I said!”

Her breath was hurried, coming out in short pants, and Zelda could immediately recognize the symptoms of, if not of a panic attack, at least the hyperventilation.

What was she supposed to do? For a second, she realized that Hilda would have known. Hilda would have reacted quickly, finding a solution to make Lilith feel better. And she was just useless. First Faustus, then Marie. They had, somehow, infect her with some poison. She wasn’t the powerful, clever witch she was when she was young. She was just an empty shell.

She took a deep breath and considered her options. Lilith was looking at her with fear, a wave of anger, resembling a wild animal behind bars. The witch could cast her way a calming spell, but with the state Lilith found herself in her magic would probably – Zelda stopped abruptly. Why _wasn’t_ she feeling Lilith’s magic? The demoness was out of control, Zelda should have found herself smashed against a wall first thing after stepping into the room. She looked at Lilith again, curled in a corner of the bed, eyes on fire, arms hugging her thighs to her chest as if she was keeping her whole body together.

And yet, Zelda _couldn’t_ feel any magic.

Could it be possible –

“Lilith,” she whispered softly, her voice a bare whiff of air. The demoness wasn’t screaming anymore, she was just looking at Zelda, teeth bared, wide eyes. Instinctively, Zelda took another step toward the bed, but Lilith backed off abruptly.

“I won’t come near you,” Zelda whispered. “I’m sorry. Lilith are you powerless?” she asked, afraid of the answer. Lilith didn’t speak, but the bolt flashing through her eyes confirmed the witch’s suspicions.

Fury built in her chest. Another abuse. Not only Lucifer had taken her baby from her, but he had also taken her powers. Zelda wasn’t the empty shell, she realized. That was Lilith.

The demoness was shaking uncontrollably, and Zelda knew she couldn’t waste another moment. She was a mortal, now, or if not a mortal, a powerless creature. And then, she remembered something Sabrina had told them once during dinner, a procedure they had taught her in that mortal school of hers. What was it? Lilith was shaking, so Zelda needed to apply pressure on her nerves’ endings. Unfortunately, that required a touch, and she wasn’t so convinced Lilith would gladly allow that.

She took a deep breath: “Lilith, I need to calm you down, okay? If you’re powerless, this agitated state could seriously hurt you.”

Lilith shook her head furiously: “Don’t want your help.”

Zelda opened her hands, palms up, hoping to calm down the demoness. “Lilith, I’m going to come close to you and I’ll put pressure on your nerves’ endings. You’ll feel better soon, it’s that all right with you?”

Clearly, it wasn’t. But Lilith couldn’t back off anymore, for she was pressed against the wall already.

Quietly, step after step, Zelda walked to the side of the bed. After an abrupt move, Lilith stayed still. Slowly, Zelda sat down on the bed. She gathered Lilith in her arms, despite the demoness’ resistance.

It wasn’t a hug per se, a warm, comforting contact. Zelda just squeezed her arms around the demoness’ torso, without any affection. She wasn’t fond of physical contact, with the exemption of sexual contact, clearly. And she didn’t want to hug Lilith, to seek comfort in the scent of her hair, in the warmth of her slim body. She definitely felt compassion for the demoness and for the moment she was experiencing. But protecting herself meant she wasn’t ready to allow anyone else access. She had promised Lilith she would help, and she was going to, for the love of Hecate. But physical contact? That meant to share, and she wouldn’t allow that.

Nevertheless, the trick worked. It took some dense, slow minutes, and Lilith’s erratic breath slowed down. When Zelda felt that the demoness was ready, she slowed down the grip.

“Here,” she said, and she discretely scooted back, allowing the demoness to gain back her personal space. 

“Lilith,” Zelda softly called. “Where are your dresses?”

Lilith pointed to the right end of a closet. And, for the first time, she asked: “Why?”. Her voice was croaky and dusty.

“First of all, because you ruined that pretty dress of yours. I can see your underwear. And, on the other hand, I told you I’m going to take care of you. I don’t like to repeat myself.”

A moment of silence passed between them, Lilith’s disoriented eyes never leaving hers. Yet, they were so heavy, it was Zelda the one having troubles holding that heavy gaze.

“I’m tired,” Lilith confessed in a breath.

Zelda opened up her closet and started scavenging through it, moving dress after dress until she settled on a severe yet tight dark green one.

“It’s the aftermath of the crisis you had,” she explained with convenience. “It will pass in a bit. Lay down for a few minutes, then I’ll help you get ready and I’ll assist you to the Mortuary.”

“I don’t need you to babysit me,” Lilith spat. A moment of silence followed, then Zelda placed on the demoness her burning eyes. “Listen, I don’t care if you’re the Mother of Demons. I am Zelda Spellman and I just have one word. You’ll come to the Mortuary with me and you’ll get better, and that’s final.”

Zelda was feisty, yet she was not foolish. She knew she was taking a risk, speaking to Lilith like that, and yet, she couldn’t care less.

The lack of powers must have done something to Lilith. Something big. She clung to the doll with both hands, shook her head: “I don’t want to move to the Mortuary. I want to stay here.”

Or maybe it was the whole baby tragedy. Zelda had never seen her like this.

“All right,” she sighed. “I’ll move here. Next to your room. This room communicates with a small parlor, adjacent to another room. That would do.”

Lilith looked at her with unbelief but didn’t dare say anything.

Zelda looked around and found a little, forsaken bell in a corner of the room. She took the item between her warm hands and closed her eyes. Then, she looked at Lilith and passed her the object: “I’ve enchanted this. If you need me, shake it and I’ll come.”

Lilith didn’t take it. Zelda grunted and placed it on her nightstand. “Suit yourself. I’ll see you at lunch.”

She was about to walk out when she remembered something. She turned to Lilith and made a simple request: “Give me the Spear of Longinus.”

Lilith gulped.

“How I suspected.”

Zelda walked closer to the demoness and extended her hand: “Lilith, I’m not joking. You’re powerless. I’m not. Give. Me. The. Spear.”

It took her a few minutes, then Lilith retrieved it from under her pillow and gave it to Zelda.

“You can’t hold me, hostage,” she said, looking at the witch.

Zelda placed her hand on the door handle. Her back was to the demoness.

“Oh, Lilith,” she sighed. “This is not your prison. This is your shelter.”


	3. 2- Herbs & a Lullaby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zelda is hurt, and yet, she tries taking care of Lilith the best she can.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a really tiring day, but I wanted to give you this.  
> Hope you like, and like always, drop me a comment and make me happy (or sad, in case it sucks) :D

**CHAPTER 2 – _Herbs & a Lullaby_**

The bell didn’t ring all morning.

Half-way to her morning classes, Zelda walked to Lilith’s room. She was already beyond annoyed because it had taken just a couple of days for the demoness to mess up with Zelda’s mind, even more than how much it was already.

She went through her morning activities like she always did, wearing the same stoned faced she always did. And yet, inside, she was screaming.

Seeing Lilith in that state, that morning had really shocked her. If there was something she had always granted to the demoness, it was fierceness. And seeing her in that state, her severe persona shattered around in pieces, exactly like her room, had shifted something in Zelda’s perspective.

That’s why, that morning, she did something she had never done before. She took a mid-morning break. As soon as she was right outside Lilith’s wooden door, she snapped her fingers and, in her hands, made its appearance a tray with two steaming cups of coffee. Zelda knocked but pushed the door open without waiting for Lilith’s voice to grant her access and entered the room.

It was still in the same conditions: destroyed. Still. Ethereal. But Lilith had surprisedly changed and was sitting in a corner of the big bed, wearing a plain grey dress, not the one Zelda had chosen for her. Her hair was tousled, and she was still holding that strange doll in her hands.

“Lilith,” she said, placing the tray on the bedside table and taking a seat on the edge of the bed. She put some sugar in one of the cups and then turned and passed it to the brunette. She looked at Lilith’s face, lifeless blue eyes, deep, bloody ridges down her cheeks. She gulped.

Lilith accepted the cup without saying anything back.

Slowly, silently, Zelda raised a hand and tried to touch one of the demoness’ cheeks. Lilith backed off, almost knocking down the cup she was holding.

“I need to disinfect those cuts, Lilith,” she told her, giving her a patronizing look. “And you can’t jump back every time I try to touch you.”

Lilith opened her mouth to say something, but then seemed to think otherwise and closed it. She didn’t say anything but held Zelda’s gaze. She was a living oxymoron, fierce and spent at the same time, flashes of the old Lilith appearing here and there.

Zelda tried again, and slowly reached to touch Lilith’s face. This time, the demoness stayed still, and Zelda ran her fingers down her cheeks. Her green eyes, flaming with rage, were scanning Lilith’s face intently. The demoness’, spent and big, were fixed on the redhead’s face, completely at her mercy.

Zelda’s fingers were incredibly soft, traveling down her cheeks. If there was something Lilith wasn’t used to, that was physical touch. The last time she had experienced it, the last time she had _enjoyed_ it had been with Adam Masters. Instinctively, she closed her eyes, but it was a matter of the briefest moment. Zelda let her hand drop and got up. She closed her eyes, murmuring a summoning spell. Then, she started moving around the room, touching broken things that were put back together after her touch.

Lilith watched her close.

“Don’t you have anything else to do?” Lilith flatly asked, and Zelda turned to her abruptly, fury boiling in her eyes. “Of course, I do, Lilith,” she spat, and for a second, Lilith’s name sounded like an insult. “I have a school full of foolish, young witches and warlocks to direct and a coven to lead. Now, since my sister has decided to abandon me and get married, I even have two teenagers to raise, and probably another eldritch terror to fight.” She stopped for a second, moving to the curtains, passing her hands along with the torn cloth, as it mended under her touch.

Lilith found herself watching the witch with fascination, and for a brief moment, her mind moved to something that was not her little Adam.

She sighed.

Zelda turned and looked at her again: “So, yes, I have other things to do. I don’t expect you to show some form of gratitude whatsoever, but what you can do, is stay there, pet your doll, be silent and let me rectify the disaster you made!”

Lilith didn’t say thank you. She didn’t even nod. But she’ll decide to show the witch some mercy, and she shut up, watching her do her job silently.

Zelda walked to the door, opened it, and quietly made a list to Prudence Night – well, Blackwood, now, apparently – of herbs she needed. Then, she got back inside, closing the door, and replying with a curt: “No, Prudence, thank you,” when the girl offered to stay and be the one to attend Lilith’s needs.

“You’re taking care of me?” the demoness said, and for the first time since that terrible day, she smirked, and Zelda got a glimpse of the old Lilith. Unconsciously, she released a breath she hadn’t realized she had been holding. It was as she had _missed_ the demoness’ antics. But, in some way, that smirk gave her hope.

Not that she was going to let it show. She shrugged and raised an eyebrow: “If you’d rather have Prudence –”

“No, no,” Lilith interrupted. Then, she went quiet again, and Zelda finished quickly the task at hand, bringing the room back to its original state. Then, she gathered the herbs Prudence had brought her and resumed her position, sitting on Lilith’s bed. She effortlessly, quickly put all of them together in a small jar, and with a quick spell, everything melted together in a dense balm.

“Come closer,” she ordered.

Lilith looked at her for a second, almost timidly, then sighed and scooted closer. Zelda’s nostrils were hit by the demoness’ scent and she cleared her throat. She took a second to remember that they were that close just for a matter of utility and that she was going to preserve her integrity all the same. She was allowing Lilith to come closer just to help her, and that didn’t mean that she would let go of her wall again.

 _Never_ again.

Well, not with Lilith, and of that much, she was certain.

She gathered a little bit of balm with a finger and looked into Lilith’s eyes: “This is going to sting a little.”

Lilith just shrugged and, slowly, carefully, Zelda applied the balm on the cuts.

Lilith wasn’t used to gentleness.

She wasn’t used to anyone taking care of her, and, on the other side, she wasn’t used to taking care of people herself. A long time had passed since she had believed she could have something remotely close to love with Lucifer. And her motherhood experience, on the other side…

Gentleness wasn’t her cup of coffee, and that was established. And yet, a great contrast to how sharp the witch was, her fingers possessed a surprising kindness. The balm did sting, but Zelda’s fingertips were soft as they moved across Lilith’s sore face, and their eyes didn’t dare leave each other.

“All done,” whispered Zelda at some point, and out the blue, she squeezed the demoness’ shoulder. “It would be better by night.”

Lilith gulped, then cleared her throat. She was about to ask something, but she just nodded.

“I’ll see you later,” Zelda nodded, and disappeared.

The bell was still on Lilith’s bedside table, untouched. Unwanted. Much like Zelda’s help. Much like Lilith’s own life.

On that everlasting, horrendously tiring day, Zelda needed to complete another task. She couldn’t just leave the Mortuary without further ado. When she got home, that night, she found Ambrose and Sabrina stalling in the kitchen, one picking on an apple, the other sipping on some tea. They were chatting quietly, sharing bits about their day, two carefree young people, all their lives still in front of them, as if what had recently happened had affected Zelda alone. She sighed, not envious, of course – she loved them more than her own life – but she wished a bit of that light-heartedness for herself. Just to forget, just for a moment. Just to close her eyes without seeing Marie confessing to her that she had lied through their whole relationship. Without seeing Lilith and her blue eyes so spent.

“What’s up, Auntie Zee?” Sabrina asked, and in an impetus of sweetness, laced her arms around Zelda’s shoulders and smacked a kiss on her cheek. Unconsciously, Zelda ran a hand down her back and smiled tightly to Ambrose: “I wanted to talk to you about something.”

Vinnie T. came running into the kitchen, tail-waggling and barking away his happiness of seeing Zelda.

“Oh, my baby,” she cooed, kneeling to gather him up in her arms. She scratched his little head, her heart filling with love. If Marie had come to her life for a reason, just for one, one reason big enough to justify her smashed heart, it was that little ball of fur curled up in her arms.

Sabrina hopped up on the kitchen counter.

“Of course. Spill it, Auntie.”

“Are you fine staying here by yourselves for a few days?” she asked. She guessed there was no other way to spill the beans, so to speak.

Sabrina and Ambrose shared a look, then he shrugged: “Of course, why wouldn’t we be? We’re both adults.”

Zelda wanted to laugh in their faces but decided to refrain herself. She was too tired even for sarcasm. She needed to get this done, as quickly as she could.

“That’s good,” she just nodded. “Thank you.”

“Wait,” Sabrina stopped her, raising her hands. “Where are you going?”

“Just to the Academy,” she explained. She didn’t want to tell them about Lilith. She didn’t want to verbalize how she needed to sew back other cuts, in order to heal her own. She didn’t know if they would understand, but even while she thought it, she knew they _would have_ understood. They would have. They had Hilda’s nature, sweet, docile, good. They were good people, while she clearly saw that she was not. She wasn’t a good person.

“I’ll sleep there for a few nights,” she said. “To keep… a closer eye on things.”

If they knew, if they imagined, they didn’t say. They, however, exchanged a look, showing their fraternal connection, and in some unaccountable way, Zelda felt even more lonely.

“Don’t worry, Auntie Zee,” Ambrose smiled. “We’re good. You can go.”

He wanted to reassure her. She knew it, she knew _him_. And yet, it hurt.

Zelda closed Lilith’s door behind her back and rolled her eyes. She was so irritating. Always have been. She had gone to her room to tell her she was there, next to her, and reminded her to ring the bell for any eventuality. Plainly, the brunette hadn’t replied once. At least, the cuts were nicely healing. Hilda was not the only able potion maker in the family. Well, Lilith could suit herself. Zelda didn’t care.

She went down her evening routine, changing her clothes, brushing her hair in front of her vanity, looking at her own glare without really seeing it. Her thoughts were strangely fixed on the brunette, as she absently brushes her curls over and over.

She tried to imagine her sister, content in her new home, with her new husband, her new life. She pictured Ambrose and Sabrina – they were probably out with their friends or locked up in their rooms. She would have stayed alone, at the Mortuary, walking around the kitchen, unsure if she should have made herself some tea or pour a glass of whiskey. She would have read a few lines, before closing the book and ditch it on an armchair. Nothing would have worked.

There, if she listened close enough, she could hear Lilith. She was humming something soft.

A lullaby.

When she got up and finally got in bed, she laid down under the duvet and took a deep sigh. She knew Marie’s memory was about to come and haunt her, and before that, she closed her eyes, trying to picture Lilith’s face in every detail. Her long curly hair, her thin lips. Her blue eyes, once so fierce. She murmured something Latin and cast her way a calming spell to help her empty her mind and get a good night's sleep.

Lilith was powerless, and that was the undertone of her every moment of every day. Under the desperation of having lost her baby, under the way she misses him constantly, there was that: she had not only lost her baby, but she had also been deprived of her identity as well. And yet, she could still sense cast-spelling. She felt magic, could almost touch it with her sixth sense. And tonight, she felt Zelda’s magic. Powerful, blatant, dark, and sexy. Like the witch herself. It came into the room, took Lilith over, made her foot and her wrists tingle. It was a calming spell. Lilith’s reaction surprised her more than she would have expected. She took a deep breath and let the spell took her over, washing over her in calming waves.


	4. 3 - Reflexes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lilith needs to relax and Zelda makes a confession.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do we do at the end of a terrible day? We pour some drama.  
> I hope you like this shit and I hope that you bring me some joy in the comments section ;)

**CHAPTER 3 - _Reflexes_**

She stared at her reflex in the mirror – it was a bright, exuberant late afternoon, a golden light taking office in the room. It was pretty. At least, it could be, if Lilith could actually care about it.

She didn’t care about anything; not anymore. So why was she looking at herself, studying her hair? Apparently, losing her powers had side effects on her appearance as well. Her normally luscious, shining waves of curls were reduced to a frizzy bush, and she went on and on with the brush, trying to give it some sense.

How ironic. She was trying to give sense to her hair when she was locked in the Academy of Unseen Arts (if that was still the name, considering the numbers of changes of flags Zelda had enforced recently), where no one actually got a glimpse of her when her life had nor made any sense at all.

Not anymore. Who was she trying to look decent for? For herself? It was so absurd she might laugh, and even that, even the idea of laughing, nowadays, was atrocious. Unnatural.

She looked at a corner of that wooden framed mirror, where her doll was placed, resting tidily. She looked at it lovingly, stroking it with a finger.

It was a lovely afternoon and she had taken the effort to shower, and she was now dressed in grey pants and the first blouse she had found (a burgundy one), trying to brush her hair, warm tears rolling down her cheeks. She didn’t know why she had gotten dressed, but Zelda had picked up the habit to stop by her room every once in a while, and the latest thing she wanted was to have the witch find her in her underwear.

She was crying – she hasn’t realized it, she was actually crying, staring at herself, and felt something in the pit of her stomach, like warm bile running through her veins.

She cried and brushed. She brushed and cried.

And the only thing she achieved, was that she was making everything worse.

She heard a noise in the adjacent room and instinctively rolled her eyes, still pouring tears. The damn dog was scratching at the door again. Who could have suspected? Zelda Spellman was an incredible noisy roommate. Dog scratching and running and barking, her voice – cooing to the puppy, throatily ordering around, not only around the halls but at her doorstep as well. If Lilith knew her former High Priestess, she suspected she hated when students knocked at her door after her office hours. And, last but not least, Lilith sometimes, late at night, heard some sort of slamming sounds she couldn’t identify.

The problem was that she didn’t actually care enough to wonder.

A knock at the door, the door adjoining the parlor. Like she usually did, Zelda didn’t wait for Lilith to reply, she let herself in. From the mirror, Lilith could see the redhead standing on the threshold, wearing black dress pants and a leopard print blouse, hair uncharacteristically pinned back at the nape of her neck.

As soon as the witch realized the demoness was crying, she gently approached her, tentatively putting a hand on her shoulder. Had Zelda always been so considerate? Obviously, she hadn’t.

Lilith’s conditions must be worse than what she thought.

“Lilith,” Zelda urged, kneeling next to her, a hand on her shoulder, the other one resting on her thigh. “What’s happened?”

“I can’t brush my hair,” Lilith simply replied, looking down in her lap.

“We can’t have that, can’t we, now?” she said softly, standing up and gently took the brush from Lilith’s hand. The demoness expected her to start working on her hair, instead, Zelda placed it on the vanity. She placed a hand against Lilith’s shoulder blaze and gasped: “Oh, for the love of Hecate, Lilith! You are so _tense_!”

Lilith almost didn’t reply, then shrugged: “Am I?”

“You are. Did you take a shower, I presume?”

“Yes, about an hour ago.”

“I can’t have you in this state,” Zelda sighed. “We’ll never accomplish anything if you remain in such a state. Let’s go, get up.”

“What for?” Lilith asked, her voice lacking any tone.

“For a buttermilk bath, of course, what else for?”

Lilith looked at her, dazed, and for a second realized that she was actually living at the Academy, without her sweet son, and High Priestess Zelda Spellman was standing in front of her, proposing a buttermilk bath.

“Now, get up, I don’t have all night!”

Lilith had no other choice than to follow her. Well, to say the truth, Lilith – or to be precise, the _former_ Lilith – would have screamed or smirked or snapped her fingers, whatever, but she would have refused to put her life in the hands of a sexy but annoying witch when she didn’t want to. It was useless to deny it: Zelda Spellman was sexy. And beautiful. And annoying like a runaway demon, but that’s it. And she couldn’t even say that she didn’t want, to take the bath. Lucifer knew she did need something to help her relax. But could she – Zelda dragged her into the bathroom, and Lilith couldn’t help but throw a glance at her doll, resting against the mirror. Well, it wasn’t going anywhere, was it? It was her gift. Or her curse. Or both. She made a vague sound at the back of her throat, and when they entered the bathroom, Zelda looked at her: “Get undressed, won’t you? What are we waiting for?”

“Well, for you to either fill the tub or give me a little privacy?” Lilith replied, biting down her bottom lip. Zelda laughed, a laugh hard and bold, completely joyless. “I probably need to remind you that I’ve seen you giving birth.” Then, when she observed the change of expression on the demoness’ face, she appeared to correct herself: “Well, I mean, we’re both women.”

“This isn’t exactly soothing,” Lilith noted, and Zelda snapped her fingers and then turned, presenting her back to the suddenly shy demoness.

What’s happened to her? Lilith couldn’t get over it. Up to three weeks before, she would have gotten rid of her blouse to flash her full breasts to the witch without a second thought, trying to persuade her to soak in the tub with her with a sway of her slim hips, silently praising Mary Wardwell for that angular, appealing body. But now, she had actually asked Zelda to turn back. She tentatively started to unbutton her blouse, watching the tub full of pearl white milk, roses petals floating on the surface, while the witch impatiently tapped her feet on the ground.

“I’m almost done,” Lilith reassured her, finally naked, stepping foot in the tub, finding the milk to be the perfect heat. She lowered her body in the tub, and once she checked she was entirely covered by the dense liquid, she sighed: “Okay, you can turn. Well, you may actually leave, I can take a bath alone,” she added.

The witch turned, “You don’t know how to do anything, alone, these days,” she reminded her. “And what are you doing crouching like that? Lie down or it won’t be effective at all!”

Lilith looked at her, wide eyes, as she got closer and dug one hand in the milk, tugging gently at Lilith’s armpit. When the demoness finally lay down, Zelda gathered her hair and moved it off the fence of the tub. Then, she closed her eyes – Lilith heard her sigh - and started to run her fingers down the brunette’s hair, starting from the top, down through the tangled curls. Lilith shivered, feeling Zelda’s magic tickle her scalp, her back, her wombs. Under Zelda’s skilled fingers, Lilith’s hair went back to its usual form, falling down shiny and perfectly curled down the white porcelain of the tub.

“Here we go, you’re all set,” she murmured at some point, and moved her lithe fingers from Lilith’s hair to her shoulders, testing the demoness’s muscles. “You really are tense, Lilith.”

“You are unusually friendly, today,” Lilith stated, trying to fight the instinct of closing her eyes.

“And you’re actually speaking,” Zelda retorted. “Anyway, this is the way you thank me for giving

you a place to stay and bringing your hair back to a decent state? By insulting me?”

“I didn’t mean to,” Lilith shrugged, while Zelda still worked at her shoulders. “But let’s be honest, Zelda, you aren’t exactly the easiest person to go along with.”

“I’ve never denied that,” Zelda nodded, picking up a loofah and gently running it up and down her arms. “Shut up, now, and enjoy this. It won’t happen again anytime soon.”

Later, wrapped in her signature emerald green robe, sitting on the edge of the bed, Lilith watched as the witch sat down on an armchair next to the fireplace, crossing her legs, exposing a little bit of her white thigh.

The redhead snapped her fingers, and two glasses of whiskey appeared on the coffee table next to her. “Care for one?” she asked, gesturing to it. She summoned a pack of cigarettes and lit one. Then, she let out a throaty laugh: “You accuse me of not being an easy person to be around, but let’s be honest, neither are you. At least, I don’t normally lie.”

_Touché._

Lilith shrugged and got up to collect the glass, actually hating the fact that she had to stand up to do it. “It burns, doesn’t it?” she asked. “What that voodoo brunette did to you.”

“I don’t have any desire to speak about that whatsoever,” Zelda roared, her jawline tightening.

Lilith rolled her eyes: “Since when witches are so sensitive? What do we have to talk about, since you insist to camp next to my bed?”

“How are you feeling?” Zelda simply asked, totally ignoring the demoness' statement.

“We’ve sworn we wouldn’t have bonded over our miserable lives,” Lilith reminded her, gracefully moving a lock of hair away from her eyes.

“And yet, I gave you shelter, haven’t I?”

“And obviously you expect something back.”

“I am just asking you how you feel,” Zelda shrugged, taking a long drag of her cigarette.

“Why is it so important to take care of me? Are you hoping your life will get a new meaning if you achieve in saving mine? Well, I got news for you: I don’t have anything left to live for.”

Zelda groaned: “Oh, you’ve always been such a drama queen,” she stated.

“And yet, you worshipped me.”

“That was a long time ago.”

There was a moment of silence, neither of them daring to say more, eyes holding, fire in green, hidden secrets in blue.

“I’m really glad you’re speaking,” Zelda noted, and Lilith instinctively snorted: “Oh, please. Don’t insult my intelligence. You don’t like me.”

“I didn’t say that I do,” Zelda observed, finishing off her cigarette and stumping it off in the ashtray. “I just said I’m glad you’re talking again. Don’t exaggerate.”

“You always say the nicest things,” Lilith observed, looking at the witch up and down.

Zelda rolled her eyes but refused to add more. Something inside of Lilith snapped and she growled: “Why are you here? You should be attending to your own needs; you are the one who just got dumped by someone with a confused identity!”

“I don’t want you to die!” Zelda reacted, almost shouting. “Is this so hard to understand? I don’t want you to die! I know something horrible happened to you, I can’t even imagine how you must be feeling, but I need you alive.”

“You don’t like me, we’ve established this,” Lilith stammered, taken back by the witch’s reaction.

“And what do we care, if I like you or if I don’t? You know, there had been a moment, right after everything with Faustus ended, and Lucifer, when you became Queen of Hell and I was your High Priestess –”

“Self-appointed High Priestess,” Lilith corrected, and Zelda could see a glimpse of the old Lilith.

“Yes, whatever. There, for a minute, before the pagan, before everything changed again, it was… Simple. It was right. Like a finished puzzle.”

Lilith didn’t say anything back. She just looked at the witch, without knowing what to say, what to offer. It was Zelda, the one adding: “And when I look at you, now, I see a reflex of that time. Pale. But it’s still there.”

They didn’t add anything. Zelda smoked and drunk until the candle wore itself out, then smiled vaguely at the brunette and retired to her own room.

* * *

Just before she closed her eyes, ready to let sleep take her over, Zelda realized Lilith had actually

spent the whole night without reaching for her doll. Then, the image of Marie appeared behind her closed eyelids and she was back in her own personal inferno.


	5. 4 - Balm & Failures

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now, it's Zelda the one who needs assistance. Lilith is happy to provide.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> don't they say that the more you write, the better you become? not my case. this is SHIT, but it's the last chapter before a BOMB.  
> enjoy :) hope to see you in the comments section ;)

**CHAPTER 4 – _Balm and failures_**

Lilith woke up with a startle.

She hadn’t even realized she had fallen asleep. She rolled over in bed and looked out of the window, just to realize that the sky was still pitch-dark. She reached for the doll, which had rolled a little further from her on the bed. Then, she heard a sound, and she realized it was that what had woken her up. _That_ sound again. She couldn’t describe what it was, in between a slam and a rustle, something cleaving the air. It came from the room next to hers, and then she heard a moan and a strangled sob, and she sat up abruptly.

 _Zelda_.

Whatever that was, something was happening to Zelda.

Swiftly, Lilith got up and out of the bed. She didn’t think of anything: she didn’t grab her robe, neither she put on her slippers. In the state she was – curls tussled from the sleep, a short, low-cut black cotton nightie on, barefoot, she silently but quickly opened the door to the parlor, walked across it, and reached for Zelda’s door. Closer, she could hear the sound clearly, and if she wasn’t absolutely sure that the witch was alone in the room, she would have sworn someone was actually hitting her.

“Zelda?” she tentatively called, but a fear and a rage she didn’t know she was capable of feeling took over her manners, and she pushed the door open without knocking and slid inside.

The scene she saw made her gasp and cover her mouth with a hand in shock, as absurd as it was. She was the Mother of Demons after all, and she had killed and eaten quite a few men. Why would she be so shocked by _that_?

Zelda Spellman was sitting at her vanity, back to the door, wearing just her bra, with the straps down. Her back was exposed, the skin bloody red and almost cut open by the cut o’ nine tails she was currently slamming on her naked back.

“Zelda!” she exclaimed; her voice sounded ironically similar to the tone Zelda had used when she had found her about to stick the Spear on Longinus in her torso. She quickly walked to the redhead and forcefully grabbed her wrist, effectively stopping her movement.

“Oh, no, Zelda, _no_.” She kneeled next to the witch, placing a hand on her thigh and the other one moving her hair away from the fresh cuts.

_The Mother of Demons kneeling in front of her former High Priestess._

Zelda looked at her, and her face was devasted by the cry, eyes red, bottom lip trembling.

“What in Lucifer’s name are you doing?” Lilith hissed, slipping into a habit hard to die.

Zelda didn’t reply, she just kept sobbing, wrists trembling so convulsively that Lilith cast the cat o’ nine tails to the other side of the room and grabbed them both, actually and effectively applying pressure on the witch’s nerves and calming her, even if just a little.

“Zelda…” Lilith just breathed. “No.” She squeezed her hands even tighter, then started unconsciously and instinctively put her hands on the witch’s back and closed her eyes. Then, a slap sharp and unexpected, she realized she didn’t own any power. She hissed and started looking around, clearly furious, opening and slamming closed drawers of the vanity. Zelda swallowed a sob and tried to ask: “What are you –”

“Oh, there,” Lilith said, satisfied, retrieving from the bottom drawer a small jar of healing balm. “Can I try to cure those or you don’t want a mere mortal to touch you?”

She almost snapped, and Zelda, lips finally firm, replied simply: “I don’t have problems with the fact that you don’t have powers.”

When Lilith, avoiding her glance, opened the jar, the witch added: “And you’re not a mortal, Lilith.

Powers or not, you’re still the Mother of Demons; the First Witch; _my_ First Queen.”

Lilith didn’t reply, and their silence hung over them like a heavy curtain. The demoness gathered a small amount of balm on her fingers, and in the perfect mirror of what Zelda had done for her the other day, she started applying it on the open cuts. Avoiding the witch’s face, she asked: “Why were you hurting yourself?”

Zelda didn’t say anything, she just hissed when Lilith’s fingers traced a particularly angry mark.

“I’m sorry,” Lilith mumbled and then bit her lips. Why is she saying sorry? The former Lilith would have just rolled her eyes: if the stupid witch wanted to bleed out, she could suit herself. Now, however, she’s stopping her, healing her.

“I’m going to ask you again, Zelda. Why were you hurting yourself? I bet it has something to do with the witch you were shagging up until last week? Oh, the warlock, pardon.”

Zelda groaned, and Lilith didn’t know if because she was hurting her or because what hurt the most was the comment.

“I don’t want to feel,” she whispered after a few minutes of silence. “I don’t want to feel _that_. You know how stupid I was, Lilith? I held her in my bed. I let her live in the Mortuary. She was at my side _at my sister’s wedding_!”

“It’s not your fault, Zelda,” Lilith summarily dismissed. “She had betrayed you _. It’s not your fault_.”

Her voice didn’t sound like it was meant to provide any comfort, and yet, as Lilith moved the witch’s luscious hair away from her neck, it _felt_ comforting.

“I’m a failure,” Zelda mumbled, looking at her hands fidgeting in her lap. Lilith snorted: “A failure,” she just repeated.

Zelda just nodded, still refusing to look up. Lilith shrugged and still applying balm on the cuts, even if it wasn’t necessary anymore, she listed: “You were the most powerful witch of the Church of Night. You helped me overthrow the Dark Lord. You survived your marriage, you protected your silly sister, your disastrous niece, and your crazy nephew, _and_ you are currently High Priestess for the second time, under another deity. Plus, do I really have to point out that you are the most powerful witch I’ve ever known? After me, that’s clear.” She stopped abruptly. “Well, after me when I was a witch,” she clarified, adjusting the shoot.

The cuts were visibly getting better under Lilith’s eyes. It was so strange, to her, how after millennia of magic, she now was so stunned by magic, probably just because she didn’t possess it anymore. And yet, she didn’t move. She just stayed there, regardless of her legs starting to hurt because of the position. And yet, she felt a gentle hand on a shoulder, moving her hair and baring olive skin. Then, she whispered: “You’re still a witch. _The_ witch. And I’ll help you get your powers back.”

Lilith wanted to look at her, and she wanted to ask again why she was helping her, why was she so sweet with her, especially considering that Lilith had never seen her so mild toward anyone. It was indeed true that the last period – and, if she was honest, Mambo Marie’s presence as well – had softened her, but stroking and petting her hair in the tub? Telling her how important it was that she didn’t die and – she stopped abruptly.

She slowly got up and Zelda watched at her, questioningly. “What’s the matter?”

Lilith walked to the bed and, as if she was in trance, she sat on the edge of the witch’s bed.

“What are we doing?” she asked Zelda, looking into her eyes.

The witch scrunched her nose: “What do you mean?”

“We’re not good people,” the demoness stated, and Zelda looked at her as if she was caught off guard. And she definitely was.

“I can’t say I disagree,” she said slowly, turning to face the brunette currently half naked on her bed. Then, she asked: “Are you saying that we actually deserve what’s happening to us? Because I might. Faustus always said so. But you… what happened to you…”

“Since when do you take account of what that bastard says or thinks?” Lilith spat. “Do I need to remind you that he abused and raped you? Repeatedly?”

Zelda gulped: “How do you know?”

“I have eyes,” Lilith shrugged, rolling her eyes. “Me, on the other hand…”

“No,” Zelda stopped her. “It’s nonsense. Don’t say it.”

“You don’t trust me,” Lilith pointed out, eyes filling with tears. “And we’ve already established that I’m not a good person.”

Zelda got up and slowly walked to her, sitting down next to Lilith on the bed.

“You’re right. I have never been able to trust you,” she said, her voice reduced to a mere whisper. “But none of this means that you deserve what happened to you. I’ve always wanted to be a mother, you know?”

She had never said this out loud. Not to another human being. Not even to her sister.

“But surely Sabrina…”

“I love Sabrina as if she is my own. But she… Sometimes, when we fight, she tends to underline that even if I’ve raised her, I’m not. And she’s right, you know? I need that feeling, that…” she glanced over at Lilith, and when she saw the light in her eyes, she abruptly stopped. “Oh my Hecate, I am so sorry, Lilith,” she murmured, and she reached out to move the demoness’ hair away from her shoulder. She traced one sharp cheekbone with her thumb and made a face: “See? Not a good person. My sister would have never said something like that.”

“Do I need to point out that I screamed like a banshee when your sister approached that door?”

This made Zelda smiled, and Lilith pressed the subject once more: “Why you did this to yourself?” she asked in a murmur, tracing fingers down red marks, then re-accommodating the strap of the bra back in place. Sheepishly, Zelda pulled the chemise over her torso, covering her tummy. She wasn’t wearing a corset, and bareness doesn’t lie.

“Tell me,” the demoness urged, pretending that she hadn’t noticed the gesture.

Zelda looked straight into Lilith’s eyes: “I’m a failure,” she simply said. “My disastrous experiences demonstrate it quite clearly, don’t you think?”

Lilith appeared to think for a moment. “If we have to base our diagnosis on a sick masochist bastard and a lying witch, maybe. But I just think that at this moment you have a distorted picture of reality.”

Zelda doesn’t say anything back, she just looked at her face, studying her sharp features, her blue eyes.

“What are we doing?” one of them asked again, for the second time, that night.

“I guess we’re doing what we promised you wouldn’t do, ten days ago. We’re bonding over our miserable lives.”

Lilith kept quiet for a second, then said: “I’m used to solitude, you know. I wandered the earth alone for millennia.”

Zelda just nodded, not quite sure where the topic was directed but signaling she was following.

“I am used to solitude, I am a lonely creature, I guess, and yet I’ve never felt as lonely as I’m feeling now.”

The witch didn’t say anything. She just reached out and took the demoness’ hand. “You’re not alone,” she stated, measuring the words. “I am here, right?”

Lilith shrugged: “And again. Why?”

Zelda looked at her, then sighed deeply: “There are two reasons. The first is that I’m terribly sorry for what happened to you. So deeply, that it makes my compassionate part come up. And the second reason is merely selfish: I’m helping you and I feel better myself.”

Lilith found out that her hand was comfortable, resting in Zelda’s. And she realized that for her it was just the same.

* * *

A couple of hours passed, and a couple of glasses of whiskey as well.

Zelda was curled in the middle of the bed, Lilith sitting a little further.

“I even started to believe she might love me, you know. How utterly stupid.”

“Love?” Lilith repeated, nursing the glass between her fingers, her gaze lost outside the window. “What is love, now? It’s just something mortals tell each one to make their stupid, little lives more bearable.”

“And yet you loved your baby. And I love my niece. Don’t we?”

“We love them because they’re parts of us,” Lilith reasoned. “But the love you’re talking about, it’s something else, isn’t it? It’s supposed to be a blending of bodies and souls. How ridiculous.”

“I suppose,” Zelda shrugged, smoking a cigarette to its filter. “We’ve never had that.”

Another moment of silence.

The clock on the wall stroke two in the night and they shared a look.

“Do you want to go to sleep?” Zelda asked.

Lilith shrugged: “I’m not sleeping much these days. Do you want another drink?”

Zelda got up: “Let’s go to your room,” she urged, and without waiting for Lilith’s reply, she ventured to the other room. Vinnie T. was comfortably sleeping on his cushion.

Lilith’s room was warm, the fire still crackling happily.

“Get in the bed,” Zelda said, gently pushing her to the furniture.

“What?” Lilith asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I’ll stay with you until you fall asleep.”

Lilith started stammering but Zelda looked at her sharply and silenced her. “Seriously now. I’ll help you sleep with a calming spell.”

Lilith slipped under the cover and curled on her side, reaching under the blanket for her doll, pressing it against her belly.

Zelda curled on the armchair next to the fireplace, crossing her legs in a way that exposed her milky thigh.

Lilith couldn’t help but look. She wanted to make a comment, say something but slept overtook her.


	6. 5 - Closeness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something changes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know. it's short. But brevity is the wit of soul, isn't it? lol, I NEEDED it to be like this because it's a closure. A sort of turning point between two parts of the journey. I hope you really like this and it's not too random, as you remember it's my first time doing canon so I don't really know what the f**ck I'm doing. Bye.

**CHAPTER 5 – _Closeness_**

Lilith rolled over in bed and, despite the indecent hour, she woke up in the room lit only by the shadow of the fire dying slowly.

She tried to find a more comfortable position, sensing that something was off, but without being able to put a name on it. Then, she saw Zelda, curled on an armchair, fast asleep. She had promised she would wait up until Lilith fell asleep, but she must have dozed off as well. She was draped over the furniture, legs bare across an arm of the chair, red curls cascading in waves over the other. Her robe had slipped opened, and she was definitely too exposed, considering the temperature of the room. The witch must be freezing. Lilith sighed and got up and first started the fire again, hoping the heat will rise quickly. Then, she approached Zelda and her first instinct was to pick her up. She couldn’t, of course. As much as Mary Wardwell had pretty muscular arms, Zelda was slightly taller and softer. She would have picked her up in a heartbeat if she still possessed her power, but that was not the case, and to say the truth, she was still weak after giving birth to Adam and treating herself with so little care after losing him. It didn’t matter: she would do it in another way. Instead, she opted for bending slightly, and moving a lock of red hair away from her forehead she murmured: “Zelda?”

The witch mumbled something intelligible and nuzzled her cheek further into the armchair. Something inside of Lilith softened, a warm feeling in her belly. Zelda looked so fragile and exposed it was hard to see her like that, small and delicate. Her lips displayed a slight pout, her bottom one sticking out a little, a small wrinkle crossing her forehead.

Lilith touched her again, running a hand down her arm. She was cold, she had been right.

“Zelda? You have to get up.”

Lilith kneeled slightly and picked one of her arms, wrapping it around her shoulder. She circled the witch’s waist with her own and pulled her up in a sitting position.

“Lilith…” Zelda mumbled, letting her weigh against the brunette. “I’m so cold.”

“It’s fine, I’ve got you,” Lilith reassured her, and started walking toward the bed, holding the witch at her waist. Zelda hid her face in Lilith’s neck, and when the brunette pushed her to sit on the bed, Zelda fell against the pillows, still shaking. Lilith covered her up, adding an extra blanket for good measure. Then, she circumnavigated the bed and got inside as well, curling on her side, paying attention to not touch the redhead in any way. Sleep took her over almost immediately, and she dozen off, a rest long and dreamless.

* * *

Zelda smelled Lilith’s scent even before realizing she was awake.

The demoness had always had a particular smell – patchouli mixed with something spicy. And warm. And powerful. She had noticed it the first time she had met her wandering at the Mortuary, and it had always announced the demoness’ presence. It was hard to mistake, and right now, she was _impossibly_ close to the source of the scent. She rubbed her nose against something smooth and warm and sighed somehow happily, relaxing against something comfortable. She moved her head and felt something sharp poking her cheek. Slowly, one by one, the other senses came alive and Zelda listed a couple of things. The source of the scent was Lilith’s neck and collarbone, against which, Zelda currently found her whole face drowning in. If she moved a little, her cheek would slide on Lilith’s shoulder, and she would feel her sharp bones. The demoness’ arms were wrapped around the witch, one around the witch’s neck, the other around her supple waist. Zelda’s arms were curled between their body, and Lilith was still sleeping, breathing deeply and calmly, her face in Zelda’s curls.

Apparently, they had curled into each other during her night, due to the cold.

Zelda didn’t dare to move.

She just tilted her head slightly, letting her eyes wander over the demoness’ resting face.

She was so gorgeous, and it felt so odd, being able to think that of another person just ten weeks after Marie. But it was impossible to deny: the demoness was pure beauty, and it wasn’t because of Mary Wardwell’s sharp features, her chocolatey hair, or her dazzling blue eyes. She had known the mortal spinster since forever, never ever spared her an appreciative look. It was just Lilith. Something purely Lilith. Something she had always feel attracted to, but she had never trusted her enough to even consider something. _Anything._

And now, everything was different. They were lost. Zelda’s heart was positively broken, and it wasn’t – she realized in the dim light of the early morning, nestled in the Mother of Demons’ arms – much because of what she had felt for and with Marie. It was because, once again, she had been betrayed. She had been used. She had been abused, at least emotionally. She had been… not enough.

And Lilith… Zelda looked at her face, temporarily calm, and felt her heart squeeze for her pain. What Lucifer had done to her… it was probably even worse than what Faustus had done to her. If not, significantly on the same level. She wasn’t sure she trusted her now, she probably still didn’t, but at least, she understood her more. She understood her sarcasm, her defenses. Her denials. And, at the end of the day, they weren’t so different.

Lilith woke up, blue met green, and she unconsciously widens her eyes, as soon as she realized the position they were currently in.

_She was in bed with Zelda Spellman._

What a pleasant way to wake up.

Zelda smiled, a pale ghost of a smile, and murmured: “Good morning.”

“Feeling warmer, now?” Lilith asked, voice full of sleep, running her hand up and down the redhead’s arm.

“I definitely do,” the witch nodded, and she diverted her eyes for a second, tilting down her head and blushing slightly.

_The great Zelda Spellman blushing._

She was clearly embarrassed, and in a way, even if she felt terribly ashamed, she was somehow pleased that she was the one putting her in such a state. And likewise – losing herself in those green eyes, for the first time since _it_ had happened, she realized how she was lying in bed without feeling panic, without fears, without compulsively reaching for her doll, without hiding her face in her pillow and crying her dead baby. The pain was still there, of course. If she moved aside the warm bed, the alluring body pressed into hers, it was there. Present. Sharp and deep. But for now, that hug, that bed, were enough.

“Why did I end up in your bed? I’m definitely invading your personal space.”

“You fell asleep in the armchair and you were freezing to death,” she explained, and inadvertently she pressed her nose against the line of the witch’s hair. “I considered let you die there for a second, then…”

Zelda giggled.

Why this closeness? Lilith didn’t know how to explain it, neither did she want to. For the first time in a very long time, she didn’t feel so scared. For the first time since Adam Master, she wasn’t feeling alone and pure trash.

“Thank you for staying,” Lilith murmured, and she couldn’t recall the last time she had sincerely apologized to someone. But Zelda had almost frozen to death to stay with her, to watch over her sleep, and Lilith kind of felt like she deserved it. She had never felt this close to someone in… probably since Adam Master, again. Instinctively, she scooted even closer to Zelda, at the same time hugging the witch tighter against her chest.

“You’re welcome,” Zelda smiled. “Don’t tell my sister or my niece that I said this, but sometimes it’s nice to have someone who watches over you. It comforts in a different way. It’s something I miss from when Hilda and I used to share a room.”

Lilith didn’t know that. And yet, she was happy the witch had told her. “It did,” she replied, actually realizing it herself. “I’m sorry for your back, tho. I don’t think you slept comfortably.”

She run her fingers down the marks on the redhead’s back and asked: “Do they hurt?”

Zelda shook her head and stretched in her arms, showing no intention whatsoever to free herself from the hug. “You probably woke me up before my back would be damaged for good, and this bed is definitely comfortable.”

And then, another tiny, trivial detail came to the surface. Lilith was feeling Zelda’s hips pressing against her midriff, and they were supple and soft. Her thigh was close to Lilith’s, who had her legs slightly opened. Her breasts, small but firm and delectable against her own chest. A fire burning slowly, she started feeling aroused. And, Lucifer, it hadn’t happened in forever.

She was feeling something – something strong. She wanted to kiss, to bite, to suck, to claim. To be held, to be kissed, to be offered a shelter. And Lucifer, how she wanted that skin to be her shelter.

When she was in Zelda’s arms like that… everything seemed _bearable_. Without thinking, she ran her hand across the witch’s hip, slowly traveling up and caressing her belly.

She wasn’t reasoning, considering pros and cons, the situations they both were in. She was physically and emotionally craving Zelda. Could that be enough, for now?

The fabric of the witch’s nightie was thin and silky, and the flesh there was _glorious_. Not supple to the point to be fat, but just the right amount to touch, to feel, to enjoy.

“Lilith?” Zelda inquired, tentatively.

“Mmh?” the demoness hummed, and then, without thinking, she pressed a kiss on the witch’s jawline. She waited for a second, and when she felt the redhead holding her breath, she retried and kissed her neck. Zelda had such a pure, sexy scent, she felt something tingle in her belly. Something she hadn’t experienced in a long time.

“You smell really good,” Lilith hissed, and confirmed the thought with another kiss, again on her neck, lower this time. Then, she licked the spot she had just kissed, and grinned: “And taste even more.”

It was amazing. For the first time since baby Adam had died, she felt alive. She felt like herself. She knew it was an illusion, she knew it wasn’t meant to last, and yet, it was marvelous.

Their breasts brushed deliciously, her nipples standing up. Promptly, Lilith raised her face and kissed the witch on the mouth. At first, she just pressed her lips against Zelda’s, and when she had no reply whatsoever, she let go for a second and raised her face to check the witch’s expression. Zelda’s face was still, sculpted into stone. Then, she reached down and kissed Lilith back, voracious and deep, sucking her lips, tracing them with her tongue. Quickly, Lilith rolled them over and straddled Zelda, leaning down to kiss her neck, quickly working a path down, to her collarbone. Then, when she felt Zelda still under her, she looked up. The witch’s eyes snapped open, fear loud in every one of her features. Then, she murmured: “I can’t. I’m sorry.”

Instinctively, Lilith rolled over and Zelda ran away. 


	7. 6 - To Have & To Trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zelda makes a mistake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> have I told you that I have no idea if this makes sense, canonically speaking? I hope they're still in character. Let me know what you guys think!  
> This chapter is for Melie, with a great thank you <3 <3 <3 

**CHAPTER 6 – _To have and to trust_**

A knock at the door.

Despite the night spent staring at the ceiling, gabbing the doll so hard her hands hurt, Lilith smirked, fully expecting it to be Zelda. In her dreams, she would be apologizing for her abrupt depart of the night before, but she knew the High Priestess well enough to know that she would never apologize, not even over her dead body. So, around four in the morning, she had decided that she would suit for Zelda acting as nothing had happened, postponing the due conversation to a further time.

“Come in!” she called, high and fiery, but who came inside wasn’t Zelda. It was Prudence.

Lilith wasn’t even out of bed, at that point, firstly because that night she hasn’t slept a wink and also because by now she had the habit to get out of bed around midmorning, when Zelda came around with their morning coffee, during her break. Not that she had something else to do – some days were bad, some a little better. All of them were filled with a great void, and no matter what she did, it was always there. The only moment in which it was bearable, was only when she was with Zelda. When they cruelly teased each other, when they shared a whiskey in the middle of the night and talked in their own, skittish way about the hard time they were going through.

When she saw Prudence entering the room, instead of Zelda, that little part left of her heart broke. She instinctively got up and reached for her green robe, addressing the girl: “Yes?”

Prudence Night – now Blackwood? Lilith wasn’t that sure – wasn’t afraid of anyone. But finding herself in front of the Mother of Demons first thing in the morning wasn’t exactly the first line in her “to do” list, if she could avoid it, at least.

“Mother Spellman wanted to be sure that you were doing fine, this morning,” she said, her voice toneless.

Lilith gave her a saccharine smile, trying to hold back the fury building in her chest, as she replied: “You can tell Mother Spellman, my dear, that if she wants to see how I’m doing, she knows where my room is.” She pointed to the armchair next to the fireplace, where Vinnie T. was currently napping. “Even considering that I have something that belongs to her.”

Prudence cleared her throat and just started: “Yes, but Mother Spellman –”

And yet Lilith threw her way such a dirty look, she immediately let the subject drop. She tilted her head gently and concluded: “Very well. Have a good day,” before silently leaving the room.

Out of rage, Lilith grabbed the first thing that came under her hand and threw it across the room, sending an XV century vase to smash in a thousand pieces on the wall. Vinnie T. woke up abruptly, scared beyond saying, and scampered away whining softly.

The nerve of that witch!

She picked up something else – this time it happened to be the vintage, fine brocade of the bed – and pulled, ripping it in two halves.

Who did she think she was?

An Unholy Bible, saved from the passage from Lucifer to Lilith herself for the mere purpose of collectionism, ended up in the fireplace, burning up and turning into ashes in a matter of seconds.

Did she know who she had said no to? No one, ever, had dared to refuse the First Witch, the Mother of Demons. And that witch, as much as she was sexy and smart and powerful - she was just a witch.

She let out a cry, a scream of pure madness, and the victim of this particular thought was Zelda’s favorite ashtray, forgotten on Lilith’s nightstand the day before. She screamed again, a hand on her own chest, and the following thing that landed on the floor, destructed, was her own robe.

A knock at the door.

Zelda rolled her eyes: “Come in,” she groaned. She was working on the same paper since that morning, 7 AM, unable to concentrate.

She felt Lilith’s body on hers, engraved on her skin by a sharp knife. She felt her breath in hers, her hair under her hand. It didn’t matter how many times she had rubbed herself in the shower, that morning, Lilith’s presence was still on her. _In her_.

The old Zelda would have ripped off their clothes in a matter of seconds, ready to spend the night between those olive thighs. Unfortunately, things were slightly different, nowadays. A pretty witch, who happened to be a man, at the end of the day, had probably ruined her for good. What burned the most wasn’t the fact that she was a man. Zelda had never been picky about the sex of their partners, and probably she would have been attracted to her – sorry, _to him_ – anyway. What hurt the most was the lie. What hurt the most was that the first time, the _very_ first time she had started seeing (she guesses they said it like this, or so Sabrina had said) someone who was nice, relaxed and caring, her identity had been a complete lie. Was it her fault? Probably it was. Probably Faustus had been right, she was unworthy. She didn’t _deserve_ something healthy and stable.

She didn’t deserve what her sister had.

It wasn’t meant for her.

And let’s be serious, she wasn’t so naïve to think she could have _that_ from the Mother of Demon. And clearly, it would have been just a matter of sex. Zelda Spellman had never refused a good bang, not once in her life. And yet… there was something more, in Lilith. Something in her deep blue eyes she had never caught, before, and that the previous night had hit her straight in the face. A darkness, a solitude. An echo of something ubiquitous which was always there stuck somewhere between her stomach and her throat. A reflex of something hers.

She didn’t know if it was something positive or negative, she just knew she wasn’t anyway ready. She would offer Lilith shelter, for so she had promised. But she needed to draw a line, and her line was sharing a bed in the middle of the night, letting the demoness sucking at her jawline. The problem wasn’t even the sex, or the mere possibility of sex, in this case. It was the closeness she had experienced. A closeness she had rarely experienced with anyone. A closeness that maybe – _maybe_ – she hadn’t experienced with Marie either.

But had she cared for her? Yes, of course, she had. It hadn’t been love, of course. Has she ever been in love? She couldn’t say. Probably not. Probably it was just this need to prove how wrong Faustus had been. But of course, she had cared for her. It had been so nice having someone who wanted her. Or, to be more specific, to have someone who looked like, who _acted like_ , she wanted her.

But she had never seen in Marie’s eyes what she had seen in Lilith’s, the night before.

The door opened and Prudence’s head appeared, somehow reticent.

“Prudence. Come in.”

The girl stepped into the office, and from the look on her face…

“The Mother of Demon is in her room with your dog, Mother Spellman. She appeared to be fine, but she told me to report to you that if you need to see how she’s doing, you can go and see for yourself,” she said, as she was repeating a poem.

“Ah, she said so?” Zelda snorted. Prudence nodded: “And, I might add, she’s probably having another mental breakdown because from her room you can hear cries and things smashed.”

“Hecate help me,” Zelda breathed. “Have you gone to ask her what’s happening?”  
“No, Mother Spellman, considering that you had forbidden us to do so, the first time it happened.”

“Of course,” Zelda spat, standing up. “I have to do all of it by myself. Thank you.”

And she left the room, murmuring something about how she has to do all by herself, at home and at the Academy, as well.

Due to her freak-out two weeks before, the students made sure to don’t approach the area of the demoness’ room, but the looks they were sharing spoke louder than words. Without any pleasantry, Zelda burst the door open and shouted: “What in Hecate’s name is happening right now?”

“Hecate, Lilith, Lucifer, whoever we’re praying these days, aren’t we, Zelda? Because you are so worried about not being enough that you throw yourself in the arms of whoever’s ready to catch you!”

The witch didn’t even have time to take in the state of the room – a complete disaster – that Lilith screamed at her.

“What in Hell –” Zelda started, but Lilith shot her a killing gaze. “Who do you think you are?” she literally spat in the witch’s face. “You bring me here, you lock me up in a room, you offer me comfort, you snug into my bed to watch over my sleep and then you threw me in a corner like a used cloth and you come and go as you please. The fact that I’m a demoness doesn’t mean that I have no feelings and the fact that people treat _yours_ like shit doesn’t give you the right to do the same with mine!”

Zelda was stunned, eyes fixed on the demoness, already filled with tears, shaming eating up her stomach. She was crying in front of the Mother of Demons. What happened to her?

“Lilith, nothing like this happened,” Zelda sighed, trying to approach the furious brunette. Naturally, she jumped back. “I wasn’t trying to use you,” the witch went on talking, refusing to stop, despite Lilith’s clear anger.

“Naturally, you weren’t,” the Mother of Demon retorted, throwing away the glass they had drunk from the night before, trying to prove a point.

“Can you please stop destroying my Academy, please?” Zelda snorted, rolling her eyes. “I’d appreciate having a conversation without you destroying everything.”

“And I’d appreciate you not leaving me alone in this fucking bed while I’m kissing you and trying to keep the only decent contact I’ve had in forever!”

Zelda had been so angry she didn’t even take a second to concentrate and put a silencing spell on the room. Probably, by now, the whole Academy had heard their exchange.

Oh, to Heaven.

“I was scared!” Zelda shouted back. “Okay? Does it feel powerful, to know this? To know that I’m ashamed of telling you that I am scared? Because here you go, I’m scared, okay?”

“You know what’s new? I’m scared too. I lost my damn child! My life isn’t my own, it belongs to Lucifer and it’s taken everything for me, do you understand? _Everything_!”

In the blink of an eye, Zelda realized that she needed her magic in that moment, more than anything else. She needed to talk to Lilith, but the Demoness was nowhere next to hearing what she had to say until she calmed down. The witch tried to sigh and closed her eyes, but as soon as she started the incantation, the Demoness shouted: “No!” and moved to the side, effectively blocking the spell. Not because she had moved or because she had broken her concentration – we’re speaking of the most powerful witch of her time, after all – but because of what that screamed refusal had awoken in her.

She stopped.

“You don’t trust me, don’t you?” Lilith asked. “How do you feel _I_ can trust _you_ , if you use magic on me when I can’t respond!”

“I wasn’t going to do that!” Zelda shouted back, scandalized. “I would never do that to you, Lilith!” Too taken by fury to stop and think, she moved close to the Demoness and grabbed her arms. “I just wanted to talk to you, and you’re in no state to listen, for you’re too angry.”

Zelda’s hand traveled up and cupped Lilith’s cheek: “It doesn’t matter how angry I may feel, but I would never control you that way. Faustus cast a Caligari Spell on me, I just wanted to help you relax.”  
“Against my knowledge?” Lilith spat, clearly still hurt and confused.

“I’m sorry,” Zelda said. It probably was the first time in her life she said those words.

“Maybe it’s time for us to start trust each other,” Lilith muttered, eyes fixed on the witch’s face. “Or I better leave, because whatever we’re doing, it can’t work without trust.” 


	8. 7 - Something to Hope for

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zelda takes a step toward Lilith.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not going to say again how uncomfortable and out of character this fic is for me. You already know! I just hope this is good and that you like it! <3

**CHAPTER 7 – _Something to hope for_**

****

_“Or I better leave, because whatever we’re doing, it can’t work without trust.”_

“No,” Zelda denied. Her eyes still glimmering with tears she refused to cry, and yet strong, determined. “I don’t want you to leave. And my…” she moved her long curls from her face. “The reason I reacted how I reacted has nothing to do with you. You aren’t the problem, okay?”

“For being the High Priestess, you aren’t exactly skilled in the communication area,” Lilith sarcastically commented, rolling her eyes.

“It’s not my strongest suit, my sister would agree with you. I’m just trying to work on my issues. But I don’t want you to leave.”

“Yes, you offered me shelter, I know this.”

Zelda sighed and looked at the scantily-clad demoness. “Lilith, can I cast a spell to fix the room and your dress, before we have this conversation, please?”

The demoness stared at her for a while, then nodded, allowing Zelda to, once again, repair what her rage had destroyed.

The witch closed her eyes, and Lilith stayed still, observing not just the power of magic itself, but the power of _her_ magic. Zelda was beautiful and sexy, and that beauty, that attractiveness, came from power as well. After all, Lilith was sensible to the fascination of power, much like Zelda herself.

In a matter of moments, the room was back to its original state, and Lilith back to be decently dressed. Zelda rather gently pushed her to the armchair and let the demoness sit down, presuming she must be exhausted. After all, anxiety and rage attacks were tiring matters.

“Aren’t you going to sit down as well? Or are we going to have this conversation with just me, still like a good child?”

Zelda sighed and curled on the carpet, close to Lilith but without touching her in any way.

“I don’t want you to feel forced to have me here,” Lilith nodded. “I don’t have anything else but my pride, Zelda. And I won’t impose my presence where it’s not wanted.”

“You, stubborn demoness,” Zelda barked. “Can’t you make an effort and just _listen_ , for once? I don’t want you to leave, and not because I feel some kind of obligation, okay? Neither because allegedly, you have nowhere else to go. I –” her voice broke.

 _You are a brave girl, Zelda_ , someone had told her once when she was young. Was she still brave? She wanted to. “I want you here.”

For a few moments, neither said anything. Then, Lilith grabbed Zelda’s wrist and made her stand up.

“What –” the witch started, but Lilith rose as well and faced the redhead. “Touch me,” she just said.

Zelda gasped softly. She was utterly straightforward, and yet, it always caught her off guard, when someone did so to her.

Lilith rolled her eyes. “Zelda. Touch my arm, or my shoulder, I’m not asking you to shove your hand between my thighs!”

Zelda sighed, but she realized she had no other choice. Why was it so vital to resolve this matter with Lilith, with a demoness she didn’t even like? She couldn’t say. And yet, she needed it. She needed it like she hadn’t needed anything in a long time.

Slowly, with a shaking hand, she reached out and touched Lilith’s hair. She stared in her blue eyes, feeling the texture of the chocolate curls under her fingertips. She let her fingers slide down, following the curl’s course, until she settled her hand on Lilith’s shoulder.

She couldn’t lie to herself – she felt a spark. She did. Touching Lilith thrilled her differently than touching anyone else.

“What are you trying to prove?” she dared to ask.

“This is me,” Lilith whispered. “No glamours. Just me. Just what you see, what’s in front of you. You probably don’t like it, we already know you don’t like it. But it’s just what you see.”

Zelda shivered, and Lilith grabbed both her shoulders. The demoness was feeling drawn to her the same way _she_ felt drawn, it was like something electric, a sparkle in the air between their bodies. It was the oldest dilemma of the world, and she would have laughed, in a different situation. Her body told her one thing – her body wanted Lilith, in the purest way. She wanted to feel those scarlet lips on her own, she wanted to feel her arms holding her close, she felt her panties slightly damp and she wanted Lilith to take them off. She wanted Lilith to help her relax. In any possible way.

But her mind? A different story. How could she again? After Faustus. After Marie (she still winced inside, when she found herself called _them_ Marie). She should be such a fool. And with Lilith, of all people! Lilith who lied, Lilith who betrayed. Lilith who was capable of anything.

And yet.

Lilith who was suffering. Lilith who looked for her, yarned for her, chose her for asylum. Lilith who put her life – _her child’s life_ – in Zelda’s hand. Lilith who chose to trust her. Lilith who talked to her, drunk with her late at night. Lilith who let Vinnie T. nap on her armchair. Lilith who stopped her from whipping herself, Lilith who took care of her. Lilith who carried her to bed. Lilith who let her take care of her, as well. Lilith who kissed her in her bed.

Lilith – who was just Lilith.

Was it enough?

“What do you want?” she whispered. “What do you want from me?”

Lilith’s eyes were full of tears, mirroring Zelda’s.

“In this moment?” Lilith whispered back. Zelda nodded and the demoness took a step forward and cupped the witch’s cheek with her hand. She studied her expression, then let her hand drop.

“I want to touch you without you looking scared to death,” she shrugged.

“Don’t think about me. Tell me what _you_ want, okay?”

Lilith let out a shaking breath. “I want us to comfort each other. I want to sleep next to you again. I want to feel you against me, I want to have sex with you. I want us to lean on each other, at least from dusk until dawn. I won’t interfere with your job; I won’t annoy you during the day, I want… I just want you to belong somewhere, at least at night. Does it make sense?”

Zelda shook her head and, absurdly, let out a small laugh. “No. It doesn’t. It’s the most insane thing you’ve ever said.”

“It’s not that insane,” Lilith shrugged. “I’ve always been attracted to you.”

“Me too,” Zelda nodded. “I don’t think this is a matter of attraction. We – we were both in that bed if you know what I mean.”

“Oh, I definitely do,” Lilith retorted, somehow flirtatiously, absently fixing the white lace collar of Zelda’s violet dress.

The clock on the wall stroke and Zelda shivered. “Very well,” she said, the unsure girl gone, the powerful High Priestess filling her space. “I need to go back to work.”

“That’s fine,” Lilith nodded as nothing had happened at all. She appeared a wholly different person than the demoness who had destroyed the room that very morning. “Come back tonight, if you… would consider my offer. If you don’t, I won’t bother you again.”

“Very well,” Zelda repeated, before disappearing.

* * *

Lilith waited.

She waited while sitting on the bed. She waited while lying down, looking closely at her doll. She waited while sitting next to the fireplace, scalding her legs in front of the fire.

The clock stroke, hour after hour, and she waited. What else could she do? She had nowhere else to go. Nothing else to do. Nothing else to _hope for._

After what seemed like forever, in that room, she knew the sounds coming from outside by heart. She could tell when the students were fretting to class when they were talking excitedly, directed to their meals. She could tell when they walked tiredly to their dorms, the sounds dying, one after one.

It happened that night as well. One of the students brought her her dinner, and Lilith ate slowly, looking outside the window. Then, she changed into her nightie and her emerald green robe.

When she couldn’t hear anything anymore, she sighed. Zelda wasn’t probably going to come. The chance became a certainty when she heard the sounds of the witch getting ready for the night, in the adjacent room. She looked at her bed. It had been nice if even for a moment, to dream that she wouldn’t be alone, that night.

Dusk was lowering his shadow on the realm.

A knock at the door. Lilith gasped, but she didn’t have time to say anything, because it opened and Zelda stood there, hair down, barefoot, wearing a black, silk, and lace robe.

“Zelda,” Lilith breathed, but the witch raised a hand, as to silence her.

“You want closeness. You want something to hope for.” She nodded. “Very well.”

And then – nothing.

Two bold, powerful women, looking at each other from two sides of a room, neither daring to get closer.

Minutes rolled off the clock.

Then, Zelda took a step forward, and a small shadow of a smile passed by Lilith’s lips. She sat down on the bed and gently grazed the duvet next to her. Zelda sat down, somehow obediently, and sure and slowly, she raised her hands and easily untied the knot that held the demoness’ robe together.

The material fell open, leaving the brunette bare.

“Lilith,” she whispered. She had never seen anyone more beautiful. Olive skin, marked by a million little, pretty imperfections.

A freckle, a mole.

Boney shoulders, full breasts, flat tummy.

“Do you still want to kiss me?” she whispered, as her fingers started tracing invisible patterns on the demoness’ collarbone. “I won’t run away, this time.”

Lilith just lowered her face – it was all it took for Zelda to tilt hers and let their lips meet in a vicious kiss, slow but greedy, teeth sinking in lips, tongues tracing the inside of mouths.

Zelda cupped one of her demoness breasts in her hand, kneading it gently, and Lilith let out the most delicious sigh when the witch dared brush her fingers against her erect nipple.

“Zelda,” the demoness just breathed, and the witch pushed her down on the bed, robe opened, gorgeous body spread for her like the most delicious of meals.

When Zelda felt an imaginary hand push on her lower back, suggesting to her to just lie down and _feast_ , she realized she was still herself, deep down.

Lilith was smiled – the first sincere, real smile Zelda had seen on the demoness face since that terrible day. Slowly but surely, she laid down next to her and started gently to kiss her neck, resuming her movements on the demoness’ breasts. She pulled and caressed and scratched at erect nipples, slowly, gently.

Lilith cupped her cheek with a hand like she had done that morning, but in this circumstance, she wasted no time in bringing their mouths together. “Zelda Spellman so gentle in bed,” she murmured. “Who would have guessed.”

Zelda stopped her movements and raised an eyebrow, her hand still cupping a full breast. “Do you want it rough?” she asked.

“No,” Lilith whispered. Then, she added: “I like it rough as well. Normally, I want it rough,” she corrected herself, and Zelda was able to see what she was trying to say. What she needed. What was hiding behind her gorgeous blue eyes.

The witch leaned even closer, pressing their mouths together, and then slid down to kiss a path down her throat, to the valley between her breasts as she circled both nipples with her tongue.

She settled comfortably between the demoness’ thighs, gently, skilled, supple, caressing her hips.

Lilith tried to get rid of the witch’s robe, but Zelda escaped from her touch, affirming with a soft, sensual smile: “This is about you.” And when she settled between her thighs, taking the first, tentative lick to her swollen clit, she sighed.

“Oh, Lilith,” the redhead breathed against the skin of her belly. She wanted to tell her everything – to list how soft her skin felt against her lips, how tasty her cunt was on her tongue, how perfectly her breasts filled her hands, but she couldn’t. She just went on licking her clit, moving her hand to finger her opening.

Lilith’s breath was erratic, out of synch, and Zelda knew the time to be gentle was over. She fastened the movement of her fingers, in and out, out and then in again, sucking greedily to the bundle of nerves and promptly adding a third finger when the demoness’ walls started contracting.

“Come for me,” she murmured on her clit, and she raised her eyes, hoping to catch a glimpse of the demoness’ pleasure.

Who was she kidding? She had wanted this as much as Lilith did. She had desired her just as much when she had been her High Priestess.

Lilith came on her tongue, a meowing sound between her gritted teeth Zelda knew she wanted to hear again.

She rolled over, and Lilith, in a way she would never have expected, rolled next to her, curving around her hip and seeking her mouth with her own. They kissed passionately, mixing Zelda’s want and Lilith’s taste, but as soon as the demoness reached to get rid of the witch’s robe, Zelda gently rolled over.

“Come here, red,” Lilith smirked, and Zelda got closed just enough to place a kiss on her opened mouth.

“Not tonight,” she whispered. Not so soon. Not after Marie.

“Zelda, did you—”

“Yes,” the witch softly interrupter her, pecking her lips again. “I’ve wanted to do that since I was your High Priestess as well. I told you. Don’t doubt it, okay?”

Lilith nodded, watching her intently. Then, she said something – something she had implied of course, but something Zelda Spellman had never thought she would hear from her mouth, nonetheless: “Stay with me, tonight?”


	9. 8 - Turning Tables

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zelda takes a step closer to Lilith.

**CHAPTER 8 – _Turning tables_**

****

Lilith woke up in the room precariously lighted, a delicious ache all over her body, rooted in her muscles, the results of a very good round of sex.

She felt better than she’d ever felt in centuries, probably. The sway of Zelda Spellman’s hips, the scent of her curls…they weren’t empty promises.

She sighed deeply and stretched, and even in that situation of blurred sagging, the first thing coming into her mind, like every morning since that damn day, is the haint of her baby, her sweet baby boy. Except – this morning she doesn’t want to feel like it. The aching in her muscles, the delicious soreness of her cunt is too strong to let her mind go after bad thoughts. She wondered if she’d be able to relax, just this once.

Probably not.

She moved, rolling into her other side, and she sleepily grinned when she spotted the witch, still sleeping. She was curled on a side, fists under her cheek, mouth slightly opened. She looked so sweet and fragile, so different from how Lilith is used to seeing her when she was awake. Her red curls were scattered all around the pillow, and the robe she was wearing had fallen slightly opened, revealing the milky skin of the top of her cleavage. Lilith smirked, her mouth watering like the one of a wolf in front of succulent meat. She didn’t want to drown in her sorrow, she didn’t want to relax. She did know what she wanted, and she wanted Zelda.

Lilith approached her, circling her waist with an arm in order to bring her closer, sharing the warmth of that bed, that dim morning, their bodies. Zelda mumbled in her sleep and unconsciously slipped closer, burying her face in the demoness’ neck.

Lilith felt her breath change, and she knew the witch was awake. Nonetheless, she kept on holding her closer, absently running imaginary circles on the small of her back.

Zelda stayed still for a couple of minutes, then, still not moving from her position, asked: “Lilith?”  
“Yes,” Lilith whispered. “Good morning.”

“Morning,” Zelda yawned, suffocating it into Lilith’s skin. Unconsciously, the witch raised a hand and scratched the back of Lilith’s head.

_History repeats itself._

She abruptly sat up and tried to move the covers to get up, but Lilith quickly straddled her, a subtle smile dancing on her lips, and pressing down on her shoulders, she pushed her down.

“Where are you going?”

“To get ready for work?” Zelda said, raising an eyebrow, a delicious voiceprint due to the sleep.

“What’s with the hurry? You’re the boss, after all.” Lilith shrugged and bent to place a little love bite on her collarbone. “You’ll work better after some stress relief.”

Zelda let out a little moan and let Lilith kiss her collarbone up to her jawline. Zelda let her kiss her for a while, then rolled them over so she was the one straddling her hips and grabbing both Lilith’s wrists with a hand.

“You want relief?” she asked with a grin. “Very well,” she nodded, and cupped one of her breasts. She moved closer to kiss behind her ear, caressing her as she whispers in her ear: “The fun part is learning the places you prefer.”

“What are you doing is perfectly fine,” Lilith hissed. “But I have one funny idea…”

“Do tell,” Zelda murmured, kissing the demoness under her ear and inhaling her scent.

“I want us to rock against each other,” she groaned as Zelda moved to lick the valley in between Lilith’s breasts.

It would be amazing, the witch had to admit it. Lilith flipped them over, straddling Zelda, pressing her wrist on the mattress as she devoured her neck. Then, she moved her face and looked straight into emerald eyes, telling her: “You taste really good. I would love to eat you up.”

“You will,” Zelda purred, but moved Lilith’s hips, so to have her center – heated and wet – connecting with her thigh.

Slowly, sensually, Zelda discarded Lilith’s nightie and gently caressed her breast with a hand, while with the other she helped her rock her hips against her.

“I want to see you ride me, first,” she told her. She cupped Lilith’s breast: “I want to see those beautiful boobs bounce as you come against me.” Lilith let out a moan. She wasn’t going to disappoint her: slowly, steadily, she started rolling her pelvis against the witch, chanting a series of soft whines. She placed both hands on the witch’s shoulders, and even if she would have loved to reach out and caress Zelda’s boobs – which looked utterly fantastic – she was well aware the witch had denied her twice, and she wasn’t going to force her. In any way.

Looking straight into Lilith’s eyes, Zelda brought two fingers to her own mouth and sucked them, before guiding them to the demoness’ clit and circling it.

“Oh, Zelda, _yes_!” Lilith exclaimed, and threw her head back, her hips moving furiously, her cunt sliding across the now soaked skin of the thigh. Zelda was so aroused she couldn’t even put it into words, she wanted to get rid of her own clothes, of her own fears, and just lose herself in the pleasure she was observing on the demoness’ face.

Lilith moved closer, still rocking her hips furiously, and kissed the witch, tongue, and teeth, moaning on the other woman’s mouth.

When she came, she fell back in Zelda’s arms, utterly spent and completely satisfied. She tilted her head, pecked Zelda’s hips, and murmured: “Have a nice day at work.”

Then, she rolled on her belly and fell back asleep.

Lilith sat down next to the fireplace, two glasses of whiskey ready on the coffee table, and waited for Zelda to be done with her workday. Or this was the impression Zelda got when she entered the demoness’ bedroom, that night like she now usually did.

“Good evening,” she greeted softly, and curled on the armchair, letting out a deep, heavy sigh, Vinnie T. immediately jumping on her lap.

“Everything okay?” Lilith asked. She couldn’t remember asking anyone, out of her own free will. She was used to asking so during her months at Baxter High, having to constantly check on students and colleagues, but now, she asked it to Zelda out of a reflex, spying the little wrinkle in between the witch’s perfectly sculpted eyebrows.

Zelda nodded again. “Yes. Just…. You know. People. Teenagers. Tons of teenagers. I detest teen’s angst.”

Lilith giggled – _giggled_ – and kept silent for a while. Then, she didn’t know why, she didn’t know how, out of the blue she asked: “Do you miss her?”

Zelda’s reply came strangled, sharp, and quick: “I do not want to speak about her.”

It was not necessary to specify who was the _she_ they were referring to.

Lilith didn’t apologize, she just kept quiet.

It took Zelda a few minutes of dense silence to finally clear her throat and ask: “Did you know?”

“Did I know what?”

“Did you know. The truth. About her. About – oh, for Hecate! About _the_ identity! I don’t even know which gender I should use! Can this be more fucked up?”

It was just a simple question, without ulterior motives. But Lilith said red: “If I knew? Speaking of fucked up things, _dear_ , should I remember you what _I_ was going through? My baby boy was dying! Dying! _He died_ , do you get the meaning of the world? Do you think I cared about what was happening? Do you think I cared about your stupid, futile, little love quarrels?”

Her eyes were full of tears, now, and Zelda just raised both hands, cigarette holder, and everything. “You are right. I am deeply sorry. I shouldn’t have asked. I shouldn’t have - I don’t know, this is stupid.” Zelda never apologized. And then: “I’m sorry,” she added once again.

Lilith wiped her eyes: “No, it’s me. I don’t know why I got so emotional over a question. No, Zelda, I didn’t know.”

Silence followed. They just sipped at their drinks, and despite everything, the other’s presence was deeply appreciated.

When they were done, Zelda moved in the direction of her own bedroom, dog trotting behind her, then turned to look at the demoness to wish her a good night, but the voice died in her throat.

“What is it?” she asked.

“Where are you going?” Lilith puzzled questioned, hands fidgeting nervously with the voodoo doll in her hands, before going to place it on the mantle over the fireplace.

“To sleep,” Zelda retorted, the tone of voice of who’s stating the obvious. “You didn’t seem in the mood of—”

“I am certainly not exactly in the mood for sex, but this doesn’t mean I don’t want you to sleep here. It doesn’t mean I don’t feel the need for some physical closeness. Is that so hard to understand?”

Zelda sighed. “No, of course is not. I’m sorry,” she sighed again. Was she going to become a habit, now? Saying she was sorry? “I didn’t mean to be a bitch. I can sleep here if you want me to.”

Lilith didn’t reply – she just discarded her robe and got into bed, lying down in the center of the bed. Zelda approached it and looked at the demoness before – differently from the previous night – she discarded her own robe as well and sat down on the bed, wearing just a lace bralette and matching knickers.

Lilith’s mouth watered immediately as she looked all over her body, wanting to enjoy it, feeling privileged to have that gorgeous witch in her bed with her.

Zelda laid down and scooted over, placing a warm hand on Lilith’s belly, the hand scalding through the cloth of the demoness’ nightie. Lilith turned on her side, facing Zelda, and placed a hand on the witch’s face, moving her hair away.

“Can we –”

“Of course,” Zelda nodded, and their mouths met middle way.

They kissed, slowly, teasingly, passionately, sucking on tongues, licking the inside of mouths. Lilith didn’t know where to put her own hands, and she moved her face, Zelda’s lips sliding to her jawline.

“I want to touch you,” Lilith murmured. “Can I?”

Zelda nodded.

Slowly, one of Lilith’s hands traced the soft skin of her belly and settled on her hips, then moved slowly down to knead her ass. The other traveled up, caressing her breasts for interminable minutes before she settled it to cup her neck.

Lilith didn’t press. She didn’t ask for more. The kiss slowly died, and they fell asleep in each other’s arms.

_“You are not my mother, Zelda, so stop acting like one!”_

_Fiery black eyes, a look of rage, a wave of blonde curls._

_“I am not as I appear.”_

_A look full of delusion, a strangled hiccup._

_“No one could love you, Zelda. No one loves you; everyone just tolerates you.”_

_A pair of hard, mean blue eyes, a stab in the chest._

_A hand climbs up Zelda’s belly up to her chest, coming to her throat, ready to wrap it around the soft skin. It does. And it starts squeezing, and squeezing, and squeezing –_

Zelda woke up with a strangled cry, jumping on the bed in a sitting position. Tears pooled in her eyes and slowly they started running down her cheeks as her mind replayed scenes of the dream.

_It was just a dream. Just a dream._

“Zelda?” a soft, sleepy voice, and an arm draped around her shoulders.

Lilith was awake. Terrified and ashamed to show to the demoness the state she currently found herself in, she raised a hand to wipe away her tears, but Lilith started running her hand up and down her arm. “Zelda, what is it? A nightmare?”

Zelda tried shaking her head, tried denying the hurt she was feeling, tried denying that she was falling apart, that she needed help, she needed a shelter, she needed – she broke down crying, hiding her face in her hands, unable to pretend anymore.

“Oh, Zelda,” Lilith sighed, her voice clear of sleep, perfectly awake, perfectly in control. “It’s fine,” she murmured, not exactly sure of what to add next. She wasn’t used to comforting people. Actually, she never had comforted people in all her life. And she never thought she ever would. But Zelda… _Zelda_. Zelda, after Adam. She didn’t possess words to complete the sentence, to form in coherent thoughts what the witch meant to her, after Adam.

She held her closer, and gently but firmly moved Zelda’s hands away from her face, devasted by tears.  
“Oh, it’s all right,” she repeated again, kissing her hairline, and she didn’t have any other words. She held her close and then whispered, bending her head to kiss her neck: “I’m here.”

And then, Zelda raised her head, and looking into Lilith’s blue eyes she simply said: “Help me. Please. Help me like I’m trying to help you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Instagram & Twitter: madamnovelist


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